in the shade and surf
by madam-stardust
Summary: A publicity stunt takes a hard left turn when Super Macho Man has to show Little Mac around the beach. Slash, Macho/Mac.


_[Note: this is an edited version of an explicit work. You can see the unedited version at AO3 here: archiveofourown dot org/works/1199254 - Please keep in mind it's NSFW/R-18**.**]_

* * *

Of all the stupid publicity stunts, showing Little Mac around the beach was probably the most humiliating thing Super Macho Man had ever had to do. His manager had said it would be good, you know, foster an air of goodwill or whatever, and Macho was too risk-averse to push back. But _damn, _the idea of plastering on a smile and babysitting that pipsqueak burned him up.

Still, he put on his sunglasses, grabbed his surfboard and towel, and went to it. Little Mac was already there, trying unsuccessfully to fight off a horde of paparazzi. "Hey, dudes," Macho drawled, sauntering onto the beach. "This where the party's at?"

The crowd immediately turned and swarmed around him, putting Super Macho Man in his natural habitat. He flexed, posed, all that stuff, and seeing Little Mac roll his eyes put a big grin on his face. Yeah, keep that kid in solitary. Here's your _real_ star.

"Hey, Mac," one of the cameramen called. "Over here! Give us a couple publicity shots, huh? You and Macho?"

"No thanks," Mac groaned.

_Same, _Macho thought, but he reached over and yanked Little Mac into the crowd anyway. "Awright, awright, take a couple good ones and then buzz off," he ordered. Mac squinted and halfheartedly grinned into the camera flashes, Macho gave a thumbs up, and that was that.

"Okay, you got your story," Macho said, and shot a big grin at the paparazzi as he shooed them away. "Go take a break. I don't want any of you running out of film before the beach party, you got it?"

"You're having a beach party?" one of them shouted.

"Yeah, eight o'clock sharp. See you there, ya damn vultures," Macho announced, winking at the crowd over his sunglasses. "Love ya."

With that, he turned, grabbed Little Mac by the shoulder, and led him further off down the beach. "C'mon, kid, let's get this over with," he groaned. "I'm a busy guy."

"Yeah, I know," Little Mac grunted, shaking him off. They walked for a second or two in stubborn silence, and then he added: "Thanks for that, though. Those guys were bugging me."

Macho laughed. "Yeah, they do that. You gotta tell 'em off, make sure they know their place. But if you make 'em hate you, you'll regret it. Remember that," he said, pointing at Mac. "That's a tip from Super Macho Man, free of charge."

Mac rolled his eyes and turned away a little, but Macho could see a grin on his face. "Yeah, thanks," he said. "I'll remember it. It's not fair to make Doc deal with them all the time."

"Speakin' of which, where's your chaperone?" Macho asked. They had walked down the beach until they hit the far edge of it, where the crowds thinned out. "He get lost or somethin'?"

"Nah, just sightseeing. You wanna set up here?" Mac asked. "I like this bit. It's nice and open."

"Yeah, sure, sure." Macho dropped his towel (which had a huge picture of himself on it, naturally) on the ground and shrugged off his bathrobe on top of it. He was dressed pretty much the same way he usually was-in nothing except a speedo, a thick gold chain around his neck, and his grey hair pulled back in a low-effort ponytail. "Wanna hit the waves, kid?"

They waded into the surf and swam out. "This is really cool," Mac remarked, glancing back towards the beach. "I've never been to the beach before."

"_Never?_" Macho repeated skeptically. "Never never?"

"I mean, I grew up in Brooklyn," Mac mumbled, embarrassed. "Not much of an opportunity to get out to the beach. I went to the pool a lot, though."

His companion laughed another deep laugh. "Yeah, well, a pool's nothin' compared to the ocean. So you never surfed then, huh, pipsqueak?"

"Never never. Don't even have a board."

"Use mine," Macho insisted, shoving it into his hands. "Get on top of it, kid, I'll show you a thing or two."

Nervously Mac swung a leg up over the surfboard, sitting on top. "This isn't gonna kill me, is it?"

"Probably not," Macho said. "Okay, dude, get ready, 'cause here comes a good one…okay, get up!"

Mac kept his eye on the wave and, to his credit, he could pop up pretty damn fast for a first-timer. He even managed to turn the board and ride it a couple yards in, but the instant he leaned a little too far to the side, the board slipped out from under him and he toppled into the surf. "Wipeout, dude!" Macho laughed, swimming over to him. "How'd you like it?"

Mac rose to the surface, sputtering and wiping his face clean. "Oh my god," he moaned. Then he paused, turned, and gave him a bright smile. "Actually, that was pretty fun. Can I do it again?"

He rode a couple more waves, then Macho got up on his board and showed him how it was done. He may have been a self-centered musclehead, but he was light on his feet, and he was able to angle through the waves like he was born for it. "See, dude?" he said smugly, paddling over to Mac on his board. "That's how a pro does it."

"That's nowhere near as easy as you make it look, right?" Mac said, and despite hating his guts, Macho grinned from ear to ear. It felt kind of weird and good to perform for someone who had literally no vested interest in him. Made the compliments sound genuine.

"Hey," Macho said. "You wanna take a break?"

"Yeah," Mac replied, glancing back to the coast. "Should we head back?"

"Nah. Not yet. I got something to show you."

They swam further down, past the end of the beach, where palm trees and thick bushes hung over the rocky edge. They made a turn and swam inwards, into a small lagoon, shaded from the sun. It was so densely forested that it cut out noise almost entirely, and for a minute or two, all they could hear was the very faint sound of cars in the distance, somewhere far away.

"Wow," Mac breathed. "This is amazing."

Macho sat up on the sand. "I know, right? I take girls here sometimes," he chuckled. "They love it. Say it's really romantic."

Mac pulled himself up next to him and laughed. "Yeah? Is that why you took me here?"

"H-hell no!" Macho spat, turning bright red. "Listen, I'm just being nice to you! Ugh," he groaned, turning away. "No need to play dirty, dude."

"I'm not…" Mac mumbled.

They sat like that for a few awkward seconds, before he started again. "Sorry," he said. "I wasn't trying to be mean. I just ask because, you know, I'm kind of into that."

Macho glanced over at him. "Yeah?"

Mac scratched the back of his head. "Yeah."

"You like guys?"

"Yeah."

"Even with all those girls hanging around you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, _good,_" Macho said suddenly, jabbing a finger at him. "That's more for me. Keep your paws off my fans."

Mac stared blankly at him for a second, before he barked out a laugh. "Oh my god, dude," he said, burying his face in his hands. "You're really something else," he chuckled, wiping his face. "Thanks. I mean it. I feel a lot better."

"Well, don't feel too good," he snickered. "I know Little Mac's secret now."

"It's not much of a secret," Mac replied flatly. "I'm nineteen and I don't have a girlfriend."

"Hanging around boxers all the time."

"Yeah, I have a type," Mac laughed. "Tough guys with big muscles."

Macho leaned over on the sand, grinning at him. "Tough guys with big muscles?" he chuckled, flexing a bicep smugly. "You don't say. With tans, right?"

"Right, and grey hair. No, don't roll your eyes," Mac said quickly. "I mean it. It looks really good on you."

Macho let out a little _hmm_ and reached back to shake out his hair. "Yeah? I used to dye it black, back in the day. Then someone found out and I was like, shit, well, I'll just make it a fashion trend…Hey," he said, suddenly realizing something. "You like me."

"Yeah," Mac said, flushing red all up his face and neck. "I guess I do. I mean, I always thought I wouldn't get along with you, but I'm having a really nice time, you know?" He pulled his knees up to his body nervously. "Sorry, this is weird, right?"

"Yeah, it's weird," Macho laughed, trying to play it off. "You're way too cute and you're giving me compliments and telling me you're super into me…" He trailed off for a second or two, glancing away, and then he looked back at Mac.

"Kid," he said quietly, his smile melting away. "You know I'm way too old for a teen romance, right?"

"I know," Mac mumbled, nodding. "I'm cool with that. I mean, it's been a few years, I'm nineteen now, so..."

"No, it's not that, I mean like-" Macho started. "Like, I'm not actually…"

Mac laid down on the sand next to him. "It's okay," he said, and he gave Macho a look so clear and understanding that it honestly gave him chills. "You don't have to tell me." He turned his head, staring up at the dense canopy of leaves. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want."

"Oh my god, dude," Macho confessed, "I want to do, like, a _million _things right now."

Mac turned towards him, laughing a little bit. "Well," he said, "let's just kiss first, okay?"

They kissed. It was weird, nervewracking (_not like in the movies), _so Macho did what he did best, which was fake it. He leaned forward, pressing into the kiss, and Mac let out a little sound from underneath him that suddenly made it _work. _Macho exhaled, shuddering a little as he felt a huge awful knot of tension inside him come loose for the first time.

They slumped back against the sand, Mac still clinging, shakily, to Macho's neck. "That was great," Mac sighed, laying his head against Macho's broad chest. "That was amazing."

"You're tellin' me," Macho panted, holding him close. "Wow."

They drew in deep breaths until they calmed down. Slowly the sound of their pounding heartbeats got quieter and quieter, until all they could hear was their own breathing and, in the distance, the vague humming of the city.

Mac peered up into the canopy, shading his eyes a little. "What time is it? It looks like the sun's going down."

"Probably is," Macho yawned, wrapping a bulging arm around his partner. "I dunno. Maybe we oughta get back before we get into trouble."

"I…yeah," Mac mumbled. "Man, I really, _really_ want to get into trouble."

"Same, kid," Macho sighed. "Maybe not here, though. Maybe later. At my place, if you want."

The kid curled close to him. "That'd be really cool," he whispered, smiling. "You think there's any way I could come over tonight? We're not staying in Cali too long."

"Call that manager of yours first, kid," Macho said, giving Mac an affectionate slap on the back. "I don't want him to think I'm kidnapping you or whatever. Try to make it sound like we're not-you know."

"Got it," Mac said, sitting up. "Makes me feel better about heading back."

"Mm-hmm." Macho pulled his hair back and tied it back in a ponytail. "Got anything else to do before we get back to the beach?"

Mac fell quiet for a moment. "Well," he asked slowly, "can we kiss one more time?"

Macho just grinned and pulled him close. They kissed again, so relaxed with each other it felt like they could melt together in the shade and surf. _I could get used to this, _Macho thought, closing his eyes. _I think I'm in love. _


End file.
